


Clothed in Strength and Dignity

by WhirlyBot



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Bisexual Character, F/F, F/M, Polyamory, they shouldn't just be plot devices, this is the story all the ladies of gotham deserve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9588695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhirlyBot/pseuds/WhirlyBot
Summary: The ones who died, the ones who lived.The good, the evil, the beautiful.These are the stories of the ladies of Gotham.Chapter 3: Mooney





	1. Kringle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She will _not be a pawn anymore._

Kristen Kringle meets Edward Nygma during her first day on the job as the GCPD's newest records keeper.

He's an odd man. She doesn't mean anything malicious by it; he's just off in a way that's hard to explain. A little socially awkward, clumsy but good-natured. But there's something she can't place, a hidden depth to him that he's desperately trying to push down. It sets her on edge.

He's in forensics, though, so hopefully she won't have to interact with him very often.

Not even two weeks later, she's proven wrong.

He stops by her workspace for the lamest excuses Kristen has ever heard. _I forgot a pencil, can I borrow one? I mysteriously lost a file, can you find it for me?_

It isn't until he sniffs her hair when she walks by that she finally thinks _enough._

"Do you know Mr. Nygma well?" Kristen asks Jim Gordon first, because he's always nice to her, and because Nygma seems to follow him around like an lost puppy.

"Ed? He's a strange guy, but nice enough. Why?"

Kristen shuffles the files she's holding. "Does he have... boundary issues?"

Harvey, Jim's partner, leans across the table. "Is he harassing you or something?"

"No, no! Nothing like that, it's just..." Kristen bites her lip. "I think he likes me."

Harvey chuckles. "What a concept! Nygma in love. Better watch out, Ms. Kringle."

"Harvey, stop." Jim Gordon shakes his head with a chuckle. "Ed definitely lacks tact, but he's a good person. I consider him a friend."

"Really?" Harvey raises an eyebrow.

"Yes," Jim says, giving him a look.

"Well then," Kristen says, "thank you for your input."

She hurries off, trying to decide what to do about the situation.

|||

Lee Thompkin's arrival is a welcome relief. It's comforting to have a female friend in this male-dominated profession. They often go out for coffee to discuss work and more personal topics.

"So," Kristen smirks, sipping her frappe, "you and Jim?"

Lee blushes and takes a bite of her cookie. "You and Ed?"

"What?" Kristen is astonished. "We're not together, I barely know him!"

Lee's eyes widen. "Oh, I'm sorry for presuming. It's just that, well, I work with Ed a lot during autopsies. He talks about you a lot."

"Does he now?" Kristen narrows her eyes.

"All good things, of course." Lee pauses to finish her latte. "He really admires you."

Kristen sighs. "I don't want to talk about men anymore. They're too exhausting."

"Damn right," Lee laughs, "let's change the subject. How's the hunt for a new apartment going?"

"Fine," she says, "but I haven't found a place I truly love."

"This is Gotham, Kristen. People settle. It's a part of life."

Kristen grimaces. "I wish it wasn't."

"Me too," Lee says, and there is an almost resigned tone to her voice.

"In any case, there is one place I might be able to tolerate..."

Without Lee to talk to, Kristen might have lost her mind a long time ago.

|||

_Tom Dougherty is a good man,_ she tells herself.

He is, even if he gets angry sometimes. It's her fault, anyway. She should have stayed quiet.

The bruises on her wrists bloom, and her eternal pursuer notices right away.

_It's nothing, Mr. Nygma._

Tom loves her. He loves her even when he's late for dates and forgets her birthday. He loves her when he makes her cry.

He has to. She doesn't have anywhere else to turn.

She's drunk tonight, drunker than she's ever been. Tom is three hours late to pick her up. He's off with some girl he picked at a bar, probably. Tomorrow will be brutal. She'll show up at work with a wicked hangover, he'll chastise her about drinking, and things will continue as they always do.

But he doesn't show up at work the next day.

Or the one after that.

When she finds the note on her desk, she's instantly suspicious. He's skipped town, apparently. Something seems too convenient, but she's relieved to be rid of him, so she doesn't put much thought into it.

For some reason, things don't get better.

Her drinking persists, and although she wouldn't call it a problem, it's getting there. She's exceptionally good at hiding it. She passes hangovers for simple headaches easily.

It's the darkness of night that affects her most. Too many of her shirts are wine-stained now, and another joins them tonight. Her sleep-deprived brain makes her hands shaky as she tries to pour it, and eventually she gives up and swigs from the bottle. It drips down her chin and she doesn't bother to do anything about it.

Normally she'd have something stronger, but the good red wine was the first thing she saw. 

Red like roses. Red like blood. 

|||

Edward is changing. He's bolder, more direct. When he asks her on a date, there's a cocky expression that doesn't fit the man she knows.

But she's lonely, and breaking, and desperate to feel something again.

So she says yes.

It goes well, for the most part. He is a nice man. Much better than the others she has dated. But then, she thought they were nice too.

They continue seeing each other, and he says _I love you,_ and she says it back.

She doesn't even realize she's lying.

He's dorky and funny and captivating, but not for Kristen. She wants comfort and love and he is willing to give it, so she accepts, and convinces herself that it _is_ love.

Some nights, Kristen looks in the mirror and hates herself. She hates that she's become nothing more than a prize for so many men. She hates that she let herself become a pawn.

And then, one dreadful day when Edward Nygma admits to the murder of Tom Dougherty, Kristen Kringle finally decides that she will _not be a pawn anymore._

She screams and she scratches and she kicks, but his hand are around her throat as he sobs.

"I would never hurt you," he says as he chokes the life out of her. "Please, believe me, I would never hurt you!"

_So this is how my story ends,_ she thinks, _a girl who was nothing more than a breaking point for this awful, awful man._

And then she thinks no more.

|||

_No more..._

A stream of consciousness in a body that is too familiar but not her own.

_Red hair._

_Riddle man._

_Bruised wrists._

_A gloomy apartment._

_Edward Nygma._

The name strikes something deep inside, a desperate, clawing instinct. It sets a fire in her heart and mind, an urge to find him, love him, keep him, _findhimlovehimkeephim._

_The wine shop the wine shop I must find the wine shop._

She's aching and disoriented, but the pain fades as she thinks about the clever, beautiful man she remembers.

_Find him love him keep him **wake up.**_

And Isabella opens her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miss Kringle was underdeveloped and used as a plot device, which isn't fair, because Chelsea Spack is a great and cute actress. 
> 
> Seriously, Gotham, give your supporting ladies some depth.


	2. Thompkins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oh,_ she thinks, _I was never meant to be happy._

Even as a young girl, Leslie Thompkins has wanted to save people.

She never expected to end up at Arkham.

But when she thinks about it, this is where she's meant to be. Doctors help people, and who better to help than those deemed unrepairable?

It's not easy by any means. These men and women are dangerous, and most hold no regret for their actions. Leslie adopts the nickname Lee and crushes the terror she holds when facing the patients. 

So she works, and she endures, and then she meets Jim Gordon.

She meets the man who ruins her life.

At first, all she can see is his goodness. He's a man with something to prove, and she is swept up in his passion. Their whirlwind romance moves fast, and before long she is sleeping in his home and working alongside him.

This should have been a sign.

But Lee likes her new job as the medical examiner, and she is blind to the dark side of both the city and Jim. 

Even when Barbara Kean threatens her life for Jim's love, she is unwavering. Lee is not a woman daunted by death. She will not let one person destroy what she has worked so hard to create.

At first, she is determined to be on equal ground with Jim. He is constantly keeping her in the dark about his work, especially concerning Arkham. But he loves her, and Lee wants that to be enough. She needs it to be enough.

So she ignores his lies, ignores her instincts, and forces herself to be content.

Eventually, the bitter memories fade. Jim proposes, she gets pregnant, and all is right with the world.

|||

Blackgate shatters any hope of living happily with Jim.

Lee can do nothing but watch as he is locked away for the murder of Theo Galavan, and the horribly suspicious part of her wonders if the accusation is true.

_Leave Gotham,_ he had said. _Go far away from here._

She thinks of their child, and she listens to him. But even that dream is soon crushed, an empty void inside her and a baby she will never be able to hold.

Lee can only imagine how the news will affect Jim. But she can't go back and face him, not now.

Not ever.

_I don't love him,_ she tells herself desperately, _I can't love him anymore._

She loses track of time, and the sting of loss fades, but the ache of loneliness is still draining her. 

Saving people and having a family. These are the only things she needs, the only things that will make her truly happy. Now it seems that she can't have either.

Mario is her salvation. Lee believes this because she has nothing else to have faith in. He is kind, and thoughtful, and...

And the son of Don Falcone.

_Always the dangerous ones,_ Lee thinks ruefully.

But once again, she falls fast and hard, and she's too tired to keep her heart locked away any longer. Mario is stable and gentle. He has none of Jim's fire, but this is a welcome relief. The history of his family does not define him, and Lee loves him for it.

When he proposes, she accepts immediately and enthusiastically. This time, her life will go according to plan.

It must.

|||

Jim barges into her life again and takes away everything she's wanted.

"I love you," he says, on her wedding day.

On her _wedding day._

On her _goddamn wedding day._

Lee slaps him and screams at him to get out of both the church and her life. He leaves, head hanging low, and she feels nothing but hatred for the man. He has no right to be a part of her life again.

She marries Mario, but her perfect day is forever tainted by spite. Leaving Gotham will help calm the dread coursing through her veins.

But of course she can't escape so easily.

Mario falls, a bullet through his brain. Her lily-white dress is spattered with her dead husband's blood, and she turns to see Jim Gordon holding the gun.

_Oh,_ she thinks, _I was never meant to be happy._

The realization set in, and Lee wails in grief and horror.

Jim tries to approach her, and she steps back, forcing herself to jump over Mario, then turns and runs.

He can't catch her, but the police do. Harvey Bullock holds her as she struggles and sobs.

"He killed him," she cries, "Harvey, he murdered my husband."

"I know," he says near her ear, "he did it to save you."

Lee does not care.

|||

"I want him dead."

She means it, and she tells Falcone without regret. He gives the order to Zsasz, and Lee knows there is nothing left for her.

Something inside of her wavers, though, and she hates it. If only she could rip out the part of her that still feels for Jim. But she can't, so she gives in.

Calling off the order only alleviates the pain for a millisecond. This was her chance to make Jim pay for what he's done, and she threw it away.

_You still love him,_ Falcone tells her. 

I don't, she wants to say, but can't. And finally, finally, Lee understands Barbara Kean. 

So she goes out looking for her.

Lee knows that she has given too much of herself to Jim. She does not belong to him, he cannot have her again. She knows that she deserves to be more than a distressed damsel for Jim to battle for.

Her life is hers, but Lee doesn't know how to make sure she never falls into the trap again. So she searches, and eventually she finds Barbara, along with her girlfriend and... her girlfriend's boyfriend. 

Lee doesn't bother to question it, because she came to escape love. Barbara is nearly ecstatic at her new attitude.

"So, you want to kill him?" 

"No. I'm not going to devote myself to him, even in revenge. I want to do something for myself." Saving people has always been her calling, and now she can. She'll save them from the awful, corrupt police force.

"Alright," Barbara says, "you want a cool evil name?"

"What?"

Barbara nods to her girlfriend, Tabitha. "She chose Tigress as a title. You know, like Penguin."

Lee sucks at her teeth. "Maybe a new name."

Barbara smirks. "We'll spread the word faster than you would believe."

She wants to choose something meaningful. A name that will set her free, but still be a reminder of what has brought her here. 

"Sofia," she says quietly, "would have been my first daughter's name. So I'll take it as mine."

Barbara nods. "Pretty. Got a last name in mind?"

"Falcone." Lee- no, Sofia says with finality. "For Mario."

Barbara grins. "Nice to meet you, Sofia Falcone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen guys, villain Lee. Villain Lee! I can't stop thinking about this concept. 
> 
> She really does deserve to be more than an object in a shitty love triangle. I love her a lot.
> 
> I decided to make her Sofia Falcone, but instead of Falcone's actual daughter, she's a daughter-in-law.
> 
> Really, look up Sofia Falcone. Cool but underrated villain.


	3. Mooney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She no longer cares if Gotham dies screaming.

By the time she is fifteen, Fish has discovered the most important lesson she will ever have the displeasure of learning. 

Her parents are dead, shot by mobsters. She's always known, through the fog of childish innocence, that the Mooney family is not and has never been an example of upstanding morals. 

For the most part, she's been shielded from the ways of the Gotham underworld. There were, however, whispers of her seventeenth birthday. It would have been an initiation of sorts. The beginning of a long road preparing her to take the place of her parents.

But her father and mother are bloody, broken, and there will be no gentle hand guiding her.

When the GCPD swarms the house, hours later and much too late, all they find is a teenage girl, sitting between cold bodies.

Fish is taken into temporary police custody.

She escapes the very next night, with the help of the police commissioner's son, Harvey Bullock. He's near her age, perhaps a year older, and instantly smitten.

"Shame you couldn't stay longer," he teases even as he sneaks her through the building, "I'd love to take a girl like you on a date."

Fish decides there's no harm in playing along. "Once I'm gone, there's no reason for me to come back. But if you can catch me, you can have me."

As Fish slips into the night, she whispers that she won't forget his help, and intends to keep that promise.

There is only a fleeting moment of regret as she flees the police. They promised her safety, but Fish is not an idiot. If her parents revealed anything about how corrupt Gotham is, it was how dirty the entire system was. 

So Fish must play dirty too.

And the lesson is this: it makes no difference if you sell your soul to sin. This city will steal it anyway.

|||

At twenty-five, Harvey reminds her of their promise.

"Caught you," he grins, and Fish rolls her eyes. 

"These handcuffs are much too tight, dear," she complains, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Sorry," he says, not sounding sorry at all. "Let me make it up to you."

When he kisses her, Fish realizes with growing dread that the boy who helped her escape so long ago is now a man who has stolen her heart, and there is nothing she can do about it.

But they are still young and foolish, and too caught up in each other to see the future consequences. In the light of day, they are fundamentally opposed. Harvey is responsible for the safety of Gotham's people. Fish is fighting for control of the very same citizens.

At night, though, they are feather-light touches and fervent confessions. They are entwined, united through mutual need and mutual enchantment. 

They aren't exclusive. Both Fish and Harvey take other lovers, but it is out of necessity to hide their relationship, rather than an active want. What they have is different. It is sacred to them both.

Fish is a daring woman, yes, but there is one thing she will never do. She will not risk saying those three words out loud. 

Perhaps it is better that she doesn't. When their relationship implodes, it leaves deep wounds. 

Fish is nearing thirty now, and the first time she wakes up without Harvey by her side, she feels terribly old.

She isn't, not really, she's barely middle age, but the life of a mob boss is violent and desperate and _short._

So she buries the pain, molds it into strength, and adds it to a growing wall of defense around her heart and mind.

|||

When Fish meets Oswald Cobblepot, she won't know, until that fateful night, that he is the one who will bring about her downfall.

For now, he is only a deceptively shy boy (because that's what he is, to her at least, he can't be more than twenty) with three murders under his belt and nowhere to turn.

"Alright," she clucks, considering him. "How old did you say you were?"

He shuffles nervously. "T-twenty-eight, ma'am."

"Hm. I almost mistook you for jailbait. Although, that can be very useful in this line of work."

Fish watches the blood drain from his face before she laughs. "Calm down, dear, I don't whore out those who are unwilling." She is not, despite popular belief, a complete monster.

They come to an agreement.

Later, she watches Oswald attempt to mingle with her other gangsters and fail horribly. 

Sometimes, Fish dwells on how oppressively male the Gotham underground is. She's faced disrespect and assault on her way to the top, and she will never forget it. Even now, in order to build an empire, she's had to enlist and work with men. And it wouldn't be so bad, not really, if just once she could hire a woman for anything other than stripping or prostitution. 

But this is the way her world works. Gotham hates all of its people, but it seems to hate women the most.

Fish fights it. She wins, mostly. She earns respect from men who laugh at her, and if they do not willingly kneel before her, _she will make them._

But somewhere deep down, Fish knows what every woman in Gotham fears. She will die by a man's hand.

And she does. 

|||

Fish feels the knife sink into her, and before the pain registers all she can think is _not again_.

 _Why now?_ Fish wants to scream it. She was born anew, blessed with power. Nothing stood in her way.

Except, of course, Jim Gordon and his cursed soul.

Oswald holds her as she dies, and isn't that a sight? Years ago, Fish would never have dreamed that her little umbrella boy would one day weep for her.

As the world fades and Oswald begs her to hold on, she feels a prickling in her eyes for the first time since she learned gangsters can't afford to cry.

The weight of the pure unfairness crushes her. She has escaped death once, and now it's hunted her down again, and Fish imagines herself as a child, sniffling on her mother's lap, not yet knowing what true pain is. 

But at least she will leave a legacy. 

"You make this city yours," she chokes, holding onto Oswald tight as she can, "or you _burn it to the ground."_

Once, Fish loved Gotham. As she rose to the top of the food chain, she was focused only on keeping herself and the city safe. But here, she has faced betrayal and heartbreak and suffering the likes of which she would not wish on her worst enemy. The city never repays a favor. It only throws you to the wolves.

She no longer cares if Gotham dies screaming.

She feels the blood seeping through her clothes, and her body is so, so cold. Somewhere above her, Oswald is still crying, but she can't see him clearly. 

Fish attempts to speak again, but only a weak gasp leaves her lungs. Her breath rattles in her chest, and it is slowing by the second.

And this, perhaps, is the final injustice. She will never be able to tell Oswald that she is truly proud of him. 

The world gives out, and Fish Mooney dies for the second time.

|||

Two years later, a woman opens her eyes.

Hugo Strange's face is the first thing she sees upon awakening, and quite honestly, she could have chosen many more pleasant things to wake up to.

Flickers of memory surface rapidly, making her head hurt. She glares at Hugo, who only chuckles.

"You're beginning to make a habit of this, Ms. Mooney," he says in that irritatingly low rumble.

Fish flexes her fingers. "Well, you know what they say. Third time's the charm."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'm bringing her back again. Fish didn't deserve to die a second time. Seriously, Gotham?


End file.
